


In Another World

by InterNutter



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-11
Updated: 2013-06-11
Packaged: 2017-12-14 16:25:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/838938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InterNutter/pseuds/InterNutter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One of my hardy perennial AU's where Odo and Kira have a longer relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Another World

Disclaimer: Paramount owns DS9, Star Trek and all related merchandise. I just play with it. A lot.

ObInfo: This story is AU, so while the names remain the same, certain facts will change :) I'm also working with the idea that Odo is 20-21 as of WYLB, which means that he's almost a rough decade younger than Kira. That cradle-robber :)

Apologies to Briggs and Dietz. I just can't help myself :) ;)

In Another World  
InterNutter

It was a hard lesson for Odo Ital to learn, and it burned him deeply. None of the people who thought he was so delightful and funny actually wanted him in the rest of their lives. A great number of them called him an animal as if *that* were his name instead of 'Odo Ital'.  
It was a terrible thing to be three years old an unloved.  
Ital crawled to the place where Mora kept his travel pack. He had no illusions about escaping on his own when he couldn't even walk. He made his way back to the duranya that Mora kept, hidden amongst his equipment, and started to pray for a miracle.

In another world, that miracle never came, and completely destroyed a young shapeshifter's faith in the Prophets. In another world, it would be decades before he found something else to believe in. In this world, however, one little thing was different.

"You're sure we can do this?" Lupaza hissed. It was a question on which hung the balance of several lives, not to mention the shape of their future.  
"Of course we can," Kira Nerys hissed back. "We're the Shakaar."  
Watch carefully, now. The change is going to happen very soon. One decision and one agreement will swing fate.  
"We can do it," Furel nodded in the darkness.  
"I'm with him," whispered Fain. "Let's do it."  
They moved in through underground tunnels, into the Bajoran Centre for Science. Each team member had a floor. Their united assignment was to free all the experiments and then blow the place sky high.

Kira Nerys had the third floor, which she systematically swept at phaser point. At least this time, all three other members of the strike team made sure it was set on stun. The last thing she needed was to vaporize an innocent simply because she was frightened.  
So far, twin hybrid Bajoran/Cardassian girls trailed behind her, staring about in wonder as they were obviously outside their lab for the first time in their lives.  
_Whoops,_ Nerys pulled up short. _Nearly missed one._  
The child was praying in front of a concealed duranya, still as a stone, and it had a pack strapped on.  
Nerys had no doubts about what the kid was praying for. She decided to answer that prayer. A brief exposure to a phaser on full vaporized the lock - and the door it was attached to. And part of the wall... All right, maybe her friends in the Resistance had a point, she did tend to overdo things a bit.  
The kid stared in awe, frozen in a pose of surprise and shock.  
"Come on!" Kira gestured. "Get out of there!"  
The kid started crawling towards her. *Crawling*!  
"Hurry it up!"  
"This is as fast as I can go. I'm sorry."  
Kira growled, holstered her phaser and scooped up the little flat-faced stranger, drew her weapon again, and resumed her search through the corridors. Five more were found, and one of their number screamed hystericaly unless Kira held her hand. It was the flat-faced one called Odo Ital who guided her to all five of those kids, and told her all of  
the contents of the other labs.  
At long last, when the floor was clear, Kira herded her seven walking charges down the stairs and into the basement, where Lupaza and Furel were already waiting.  
Furel was busy placing an explosive charge on the generator, and Lupaza was keeping check on their twenty rescued children.  
"Where the hell is Fain? Have you seen him?" Lupaza hissed.  
Kira shrugged. "Still on the fourth floor?"  
"That's where Lab 17 is," said Odo, still clinging to her. "There's more than twice this number of children up there, and they don't like strangers."  
"Do you know them?"  
"I speak their language fluently."  
Kira Nerys rolled her eyes, and mercilessly foisted off the other seven kids on Lupaza. "Then we better go help Fain."  
"Well," said Lupaza to Furel as Kira started back up the stairs. "*You're* the one who was wanting children..."  
Kira snorted as she began climbing all the way up to the fourth level.  
Odo had been right. Lab 17 was crawling with children. Lots of them were identical twins, a few were identical triplets, and even fewer were solitary children. They were all Bajoran or Bajoran/Cardassian hybrids. All were crying and screaming.  
Odo immediately launched into one of the many creoles that had formed on Bajor. This was one of the rare ones that Kira hadn't learned yet.

All of the children were crying. It disturbed Odo no end, especially since they were afraid of the very people they had been praying for.  
"Stop it!" He told them in the Lab's Creole. "These people are here to free you!"  
That got their attention. All eyes were fixed on him.  
"These people want to free you, and they want to blow up the labs."  
There was a united cheer.  
"But you have to be *quiet*, and do exactly as they say."  
Fifty-six children fell to whispers.  
Odo changed back to the Bajoran that Kira spoke. "What do you want me to tell them?"  
"Line up and follow Fain downstairs."  
He dutifully translated, adding only that they had to keep as quiet as they could so that the Cardassians wouldn't find out. Odo, still held in the Resistance fighter's arms, followed the trail of children down to the basement again. There, the others were herding children into tunnels, and the one Odo had seen placing the device was now pressing numbers into it.  
Kira sat him in the pipe. "Follow the others. I'll be right after you."  
Odo followed, heading into an uncertain future.

"What the *Flakk* are we going to do with Eighty-four kids?" Shakaar demanded, for once, not muttering in front of a crowd.  
"It *was* your idea, Edon," Lupaza informed. "*I* didn't know we were going to get *this* many."  
"Are we sure they're all orphans?" Asked Kira.  
The rest glared at her.  
"Spoonheads have ways of making orphans," said Fain.  
"They also take what they want, and don't bother killing the parents."  
Odo was the one to speak next. "It doesn't matter if they are orphans or not," he told them. "They were all taken as babies - they don't remember any family."  
"Flakk it..." Shakaar tore at his hair. "We can't fight with Eighty-four kids to look after."  
"There are some villages higher in the mountains," Fain suggested. "The spoon-heads haven't got up there, and probably won't get up there for years. If at all."  
Lupaza took up the idea. "If we spread them out, break them up into groups, it's less likely they'll find them, too. They're *looking* for Eighty-four kids, not Twenty or less."  
"So what about the ones they don't want?" Asked Kira.  
Fain shrugged. "Trainees?"

In the end there was only one 'trainee'. He was let down by three simple words: "I can't walk."  
Kira glared at him. "Couldn't you have at least *tried*?"  
"It would have made it worse." Odo was a hunched little ball in the corner of what was now their mutual cave. "Trust me."  
She rolled her eyes. "I *still* don't see why I had to get saddled with you."  
"You rescued me. The others think there's a 'bond' between us." Odo added a sarcastic, "Hah! The only bond here is repulsive."  
"What?" Kira stared at the kid. Words like that shouldn't be coming from a body so small or a face that young.  
"You hate me. Everybody does." Such a statement. Made with such complete faith in its status as a fact. "Maybe even the Prophets."  
"How old *are* you, anyway?"  
"Three."  
"*Flakk*." Kira ran her hands through her hair. "This isn't right. What in the name of the Prophets were they *doing* to you in there?"  
Odo managed half a smile. "I wasn't made this way. I'm a shapeshifter. A piece of flotsam from the Denorious Belt with no history and, before we met, a painful and probably brief future."  
Her stomach sank. "I - heard about you..."  
Now it was his turn to glare at *her*. "Oh, come *on*. If I *was* that dangerous, do you think you, or anyone else you know, would be alive by now?"  
Kira hung her head. "You're right. I'm sorry."  
Odo was regressing back to his curl. "Could you leave me alone for an hour or so, please? I need to rest."  
Kira didn't budge. "You need to get over any shyness you have in the Resistance," she told him. "Nudidity is nothing to any of us."  
"How do you feel about - melting?"  
She found herself grinning. "Huh. I forgot you weren't a humanoid. How's about I turn my back and guard the door?"  
"It will - do."

Saddled, she had said. She was saddled with him.  
Maybe she'd be less reluctant if he finally learned how to walk; but how could he do so without losing what little dignity he still had?  
He had to ask for help. From Kira Nerys - who thought she'd been saddled with him.  
Odo had plenty of time to formulate the question while he was resting.  
When he re-formed himself, and packed away his pail, he said, "Maybe I'd be less trouble to you if I learned to walk?"  
Kira replied with a snort and a "Maybe."  
"I can't ask anyone else - they barely want to touch me." Odo sighed. "Could you - maybe find some time to - teach me?"  
She smiled. "I'll try. I think I remember teaching my baby brother." Kira walked over to him and took each of his hands in one of hers. "Now stand up. I'll hold you steady."

"We don't have to do it that way," Odo said, clambering over the tactical diagram.  
Furel responded with a, "Says who, short stuff?"  
"You *have* a shapeshifter. I can *be* anything. I can get any*where*. I could put the bomb right under his bed. It beats blowing up half the house."  
Kira raised her eyebrow. "We *are* only after the Gul..."  
"He's far too little," said Lupaza.  
Odo folded his arms, said, "Really?" Then grew. He changed his shape by first turning into a gelloid blob, then re-forming the blob's configuration, and finally bringing back all the definition that made him look humanoid. Now he appeared to be a fully grown adult. "Would you be happier if I was this size?"  
All jaws dropped, save for two - Odo, who was looking smug and Kira, who was grinning like a sand-dragon.  
Shakaar was the one to say, "Consider that a kick up the tail for thinking inside the circle. You willing to go?"  
Odo nodded. "The bomb has to have subspace shielding. If I have to fit through a crack this wide," he demonstrated with finger and thumb. "I don't want to have to die because of it."  
Furel only nodded. "We'll need about Seventy ounces of tritanium."  
"I know where to get some," said Fain.

Only afterwards, when the screaming started, did Odo begin to have doubts. He'd reverted to his child-form so Kira could carry him, double-time, through the maze of pathways in the Dakhur mountains.  
"Nerys?"  
"What?"  
"Did we do the right thing? I'm sure we might have done more bad than good..."  
"That monster deserved to die," stated Kira, ducking into a cave that would, eventually, lead back to Shakaar headquarters. "His personal goal was to kill Eight Hundred Bajorans a day."  
"I know," Odo was very quiet. "And it may save Seven Hundred and Ninety Bajorans today, but what about tomorrow? What if we get a Gul who wants to kill a Thousand or more?"  
Kira shrugged. "We kill him too - and keep going until they get the message. Spoonheads are thick about that sometimes."  
Odo sighed. "I've - never killed before. Not anything."  
Kira halted. "Are you pulling my ear?"  
"No," Odo shook his head. "Not even ants."  
"Well," Kira moved her hold of his childlike form into a hug. "If you want to feel better about it, you can think of it as delivering a parcel."  
"No. I won't delude myself." They journeyed on for a minute or two in silence before he added, "Thankyou for the hug, Nerys. No-one ever thought I was worth one before."  
"All the more reason to give you one, kid."  
Another few minutes of silence. "I *did* tell you my name, didn't I?"  
"Yes. And I know what it means."  
"It doesn't mean anything in Bajoran," Odo supplied.  
"Now who's deluding themselves?"  
"I'm used to it," Odo told her, "I don't think of myself as 'nothing' any more."  
"Well, I'll just stick to calling you 'Odo', if that's all right with you."  
"It's fine, Nerys."

Odo turned out to be quite a strategist, and changed the old Bajoran adage - 'the only good Cardassian is a dead Cardassian' into 'the only good Cardassian is a busy Cardassian'.  
He tied up troops by attacking convoys and supply lines, so the drivers would demand an armed escort. They only ever received competent attacks when that guard was getting lax.  
More supplies were needed when Odo instigated the wound-only policy. His reasoning - far more was spent on a live soldier than a dead one. In short, he began making war Hell for the Cardassians.  
Kira was intensely proud of him, even though she didn't always agree with his tactics. They argued over it, sometimes long into the night, but eventually, it would end up in a four-word draw.  
"Wimp."  
"Bloodsucker."  
"Freak."  
"Hothead."  
And they would laugh, shake hands, and try to get on with the business at hand. In their own way, they were the best team the Shakaar ever had.  
Which was why it was so hard to try and break them up.

"No."  
"What part of 'you're in danger' don't you understand?"  
Odo 'Borha' Ital folded his arms. "The part where Nerys and I have to separate. We're a team. We do well as a team."  
"And the spoonheads are after that team," Shakaar explained as if to a small child. "They're all out looking for the two of you."  
Odo turned on his best patronising mein, "And if they ever *find* the two of us, they won't survive the encounter intact."  
Kira sighed, "And you were *such* a cute kid... What happened?"  
"I thought you happened."  
Shakaar interrupted them with, "Look. If you split up, it's less likely they kill the both of you."  
"And if they kill *one* of us, *I* know who the odds favour. Nerys is at the most risk. She needs someone who can hide her in seconds."  
"Which just happens to be you," Kira pointed out.  
Odo shrugged. "I *am* versatile."  
"You're *paranoid*... Odo, I'm Seventeen years old. You're *six*."  
"Do I *act* six?"  
"That doesn't change a thing. Odo, I'm a big girl. I *can* look after myself."  
"Then think of me as insurance."  
"You just don't want to be without your Hide-mama. Wimp."  
"Bloodsucker."  
"Freak."  
"Hothead." The words were almost a mantra by now. "I'm not leaving you; and that's final."  
"If you weren't so useful, you'd be a huge pain in the ass by now, you know that?"  
"Yes," Odo smiled.  
Kira grinned back before telling Shakkar, "He's coming with me, and you can't stop him."  
Shakkar rolled his eyes. "Fine... you two idiots want to kill yourselves, go for it. You know where the safety house is."  
"Funny, I thought we knew where several were."  
"Hope the mountain folk like strangers."  
"*You* know they never do. At least *you* look *Bajoran*."  
"Don't worry. I have an idea."

"Wimp."  
"Bloodsucker."  
"Freak."  
"Hothead." Of course, Odo's side of the argument was slightly muffled by the presence of surgical wraps, replete with a purely cosmetic mottling of bloodstains. The cover-all-sin too, Odo felt, was not helping any.  
"Hold it right there," said a drawled, if loud, voice from somewhere among the rocks. "You two keep your hands in the open 'n' tell us what you're doing here."  
Nerys breathed a sigh of relief that wasn't entirely acted. "Thank the Prophets you guys are still on watch. I was starting to get worried."  
"Who's the other one?"  
"My," there was a terrifying pause as she thought about the truth, "partner."  
It fit, in the weird kind of way that summed up their entire relationship for the past three years. Now it was time for her to start lying - a skill she never quite perfected in all her time in the Resistance.  
"He was wounded and we need a place to hide. Flakkin' spoonheads are after us."  
A small child emerged from a cluster of stones nearby. She was holding a phaser, which she used to gesture at Odo's head.  
Slowly, with the gestures appropriate to one in pain, he removed the entire cover-all-sin.  
"He's no spoonhead, Papa!"  
A crowd of wary Bajorans popped up from all around them. All of them were armed to the teeth.  
Odo sat down on a handy boulder and gathered up his shed garment as if stiff and sore. The Hill Bajorans would poke, prod and stare at him before recognising Nerys, who had grown since the last time they saw her, some four years ago.  
"Hey, Nerys," said one at length. "Is that really you?"  
"I do *grow*, you know," Nerys cracked. "This is Odo, my partner in crime. I'm afraid he doesn't have much of a face left, any more. Got too close to an incendiary bomb, last raid."  
Odo would have to tell her, as soon as they were holed up in the safety house, that he could pick out her truthful statements just by watching her face change. Her face had fascinated him from the moment he saw the wild, rangy creature through the hole in the wall and the door. She lived her life with every atom of herself, and lying went against that very nature.  
Nevertheless; she lied convincingly enough for the Mountain Bajorans, who guided them both into a cabin that was more inside the mountain than on it. If there was anything about the place that did not involve climbing something, Odo would be very surprised.

"Are you nuts, Odo? What the flakk are you *doing*?"  
"Renovating," Odo climbed back down the ladder. "I've got to do *something*, and I've already read everything I could get my hands on. Fortunately, there's enough tools for me to fix up this whole place."  
"Prophet's damned hyperactive six-year-old shapeshifter... Can't you just whittle like everybody else?"  
Odo proved his point by showing her where the main structural beam had rotted away. "This place *needs* help, Nerys."  
"*Flakk*... What's keeping it from coming down on us?"  
"At the moment - the walls."  
"How can I help you?"

The Cardassians left on the day Kira Nerys turned twenty, and shortly after her promotion to Major. Odo, ever at her side since the day they first met, was the first to use her new title.  
"Congratulations, Major."  
"Congratulations to all of us," she grinned. "They're *gone*! I can't believe they're finally *gone*!"  
Odo grinned right back. "It's nice to be hiding in a cave on a Free Bajor."  
"Don't you just *love* those words? Free Bajor. It used to be a demand - now it's a fact."  
"Hey Borha!" Fain called from their comm equipment, "The council of cell leaders wants you to be their First Minister!"  
"They *what*?"  
"I'm serious. It was an all-minus-one vote. Guess Shakaar didn't want to give up his chances, or something."  
Odo's smile turned nasty. "Tell them I'll meet them at the council rooms in a week."  
"You're not thinking of *going*."  
"Actually, I was. As my real age." He morphed down to a nine-year-old Odo childform. "You tell me if *this* will impress them."  
"Hell, no," Kira grinned. "So you don't want to be a candidate?"  
"I have *no* interests in trying to run Bajor. At all."  
"You wimp."  
"Bloodsucker."  
"Freak."  
"Hothead." Those words, so often exchanged, held almost another meaning by now. The laughter was the same, though. As it had always been.  
"Okay. Let me pack and we'll be on our way."  
"We?" Quoted Odo. "I thought you couldn't wait to get rid of me."  
"Naw. We're a *team*. Besides, there's still that law that won't let minors travel alone."  
"Ageist."  
They managed to bicker all the way to the Council, where they only stopped in order to let the ministers bicker.  
"Fascinating, isn't it?" Odo managed to murmur above the collected voices. "I think that one over there has yet to take a breath."  
"Oh, there he goes."  
They finally decided that, while 'Borha' was a figure of great influence on Bajor, he was far too young for a position on the Council. They also decided that 'Chala' aka Kira Nerys was to be placed on the station with him.  
"Terak Nor?"  
"Terak Nor." Odo relaxed into his seat on the shuttle. "It's better than being stuck in an office shuffling papers, at any rate."  
"But Terak Nor... It's depressing and Cardassian and full of Collaborators."  
"Then they'll be the first to tour the cells, won't they? We can arrange a good, old-fashioned prisoner exchange, if we're lucky."  
"I hear the spoonheads abandoned it after all those Borha-wannabes sabotaged it half to death."  
"Now who's being the wimp?" Odo teased. "Now that I have fame, I just announce who I am, and politely ask that they go fix it. Problem solved."  
"And what about the Collaborators who'll try to shoot you?"  
"For that, I have my partner, trusted friend, and Hide-Mama to be my bodyguard."  
"Wimp..."

Bajor was not happy to see Starfleet turn up, especially since it was five years after they were needed. The Cardassians, busy licking their wounds on the 'correct' side of the DMZ, had no interests in sabre-rattling. Starfleet felt it was prudent to offer help before the Bajorans became the next force to be reckoned with.  
Bajor saw their appearance for what it truly was, - a desperate attempt to get on their side and stop a potential war before it started, and a small effort to borrow some glory. Bajor, who had begged Starfleet for help for some decades, was less than impressed.  
Ben Sisko's welcome to the station wasn't one. There was no-one to greet him or his young son at the airlock, and all the Bajorans he saw were giving him the cold shoulder; or, failing that, chilling glares.  
The Cardassian-ness of the station was hiding under a plethora of Bajoran symbols and colours. Thriving businesses did trade with aliens of all descriptions and Bajorans alike. They were also, he noticed, refusing a great deal of service to the Federation members who were now flooding the station.  
He told Jake to go shopping while he sought the leaders of the station. Starfleet had given him a datapadd full of their exploits, which ended up reading like the Anansi tales from his ancestor's homeland. _The Ghost and the Fire,_ he thought. _I wonder which is  
which?_ They were certainly an active pair; strikes, raids and victories credited to them spread all across the Bajoran globe, not to mention the entire system.  
Even Ops had been made Bajoran during the five years the Bajorans had held it. A duranya stood in a corner, out of the way if an emergency occurred, yet fully available to all the crew.  
The Bajoran crew fell silent as the turbolift deposited him among them, their hands slowing so they could watch the Starfleet Commander with all the hatred they could muster.  
If he thought that welcome was a cold one, he had to re-evaluate the temperature once he got to his office. Two Bajorans were chatting in a dialect he hadn't thought to learn. The male of the couple was sitting on Sisko's desk and fidgeting in a boyish way.  
Both stopped dead when he entered and glared so forcefully at him that he knew they were considering his funery arrangements.  
"Well, well, well..." the male folded his arms and smirked. Sisko was personally amazed that someone with such a bad facial injury could produce so much expression. "If it isn't Starfleet coming by to claim victory after the battle's over."  
The female leaned against the desk. "*So* over, in fact, that the smoke has cleared and grass has grown over the bones."  
"For the record, I felt strongly about the Bajoran situation," Sisko placated, not even thinking about telling these two to get out of his office. "But Starfleet Command forbade any of us to do anything about it."  
"How lucky for Starfleet Command."  
"Starfleet Command must be pretty powerful," the female speculated. "In all the time the war was going on, we didn't even glimpse so much as *one* rogue Starfleet officer who decided his feelings were more important than his career."  
Sisko felt the heat rise to his face, and was thankful his dark skin hid his flushing well. "I can understand," he told them. "It's very easy to hear about things, feel something, and only send tokens... I *wanted* to go, but I had no ship and no supplies a the time. I don't know about anyone else, but *I* would have gone rogue in an instant - if I had the opportunity."  
The male snorted. "I hope you won't mind if we reserve our judgement until later, Commander? Now that you're out *here*; *actions* speak louder than words."  
"Ital..." warned the female. "The council told us to give Starfleet a chance."  
"They didn't say anything about how *thin* it had to be..."  
Sisko did the one thing that warmed them to him. "Can you tell me if I have the honour of addressing either the Ghost or the Fire?"  
The two Bajorans exchanged looks.  
The male grinned. "Yes."  
The female joined him in smiling. "It's up to you to guess which is which."  
He realized. "You're Borha and Chala?" Sisko held up the padd. "I've been reading about you."  
"Really."  
Further debate was halted by a klaxon and immediate yellow alert. Ben Sisko dashed out into Ops, proper, while the other two followed at a more leisurely pace.  
"What's going on?" Sisko demanded.  
The flat-faced male peered at one of the screens, laughed, and said something in another language. The female grinned.  
"You're in luck, Starfleet," said the woman, "You now have a chance to prove yourself. Gul Dukat's coming by for his monthly whining session. Just to get you up to speed, I'm Colonel Kira Nerys and my partner, here," the male nodded. "Is Major Odo. He doesn't have any other name, and prefers not to make his rank known."  
"Hail them," said Major Odo.  
A Cardassian Gul appeared on the monitor. "Colonel," he beamed, "Major. I see some sense of order has finally manifested itself on 'your' station as the presence of Starfleet. Welcome - Commander; you have no idea how well your presence is anticipated."  
"Go ahead, Commander," offered Colonel Kira. "Starfleet wants to handle things now, so - handle things."  
"It's a good chance for you to show us your loyalties," said Major Odo.  
Both sat back to watch the show.  
"Gul Dukat," said Sisko with his poker face. "What are you doing on this side of the demilitarized zone?"  
"Persuing justice," informed Dukat. "These Bajorans have harboured, somewhere on that captured station of theirs, two infamous war criminals. Unfortunately, Cardassia has no record of their real names, nor of their faces. We only know their aliases."  
Sisko knew the answer before he asked it. "And who would these war criminals be?"  
"Borha and Chala. The Ghost and The Fire. Apparrently, these Bajorans think of them as heroes."  
"I'm sorry," Sisko shrugged with a dumber-than-dirt-water grin. "I just got here. I only know Colonel Kira and Major Odo, here. We just got introduced. Rest assured, though, that if I *do* find out who The Ghost and The Fire are, you'll be among the first to know."  
"Well Captain," the sneer couldn't have been more pronounced, "May we take advantage of the station's Promenade, and perhaps by pooling our information on these two renegade war criminals we may be able to finally bring them to justice."  
"Of course," Sisko was getting some serious work out of his poker face. "Although I'm sure I don't know much, since I just got here."  
"I'm sure you'll be more helpful than these Bajorans, Commander."  
Dukat cut off the link.  
"I'm sure I could be less help," he said to himself. Then he turned to his new crew. "Before Dukat comes aboard, I want you do do everything by the book, three times if necessary, and then think up some new minutia to keep him occupied for another hour. You two," he indicated the very 'war criminals' he was supposed to find, "are going to tell me everything you know about Gul Dukat."

Listening to Borha and Chala was an education. They took turns completing the other's sentences, and were completely unaware that they were doing it. Then there was the four-word argument they had after digressing onto a tangent.  
"Wimp."  
"Bloodsucker."  
"Freak."  
"Hothead."  
Then they would return to the subject at hand as if nothing ever happened.  
Sisko was stunned. He didn't know two people could talk like that and still be civil to one another. Though civil wasn't exactly the word that best fit their discussion. Both Colonel and Major exchanged insults like a couple inventing cute nicknames for eachother. Despite the disturbing phraseology, it was almost like watching an old-married couple converse.  
Still, in-between the good-natured cursing was a lot of information about Dukat.  
Dukat had been freshly installed as the Prefect when Bajor finally ousted the Cardassians, and as a direct result, spent most of his time stopping by to see if he could get his old job back. He spent an hour or three giving his men 'leave' to harass the local shopkeepers while 'searching' himself for Borha and Chala. Naturally, his inability to find the two outlaws only increased his frustration level, especially as he had no idea they were under his very nose every time he called in.  
By the time Dukat arrived in Ops, Sisko was sitting behind the Commanders desk nocholantly playing with his favourite object, a baseball, and several Bajoran crewmembers were apparently showing Starfleet personel around their new workstations.  
"Captain, I certainly hope you're going to improve efficiency on this station." Dukat ignored Odo and Kira, who were lounging in chairs in the corner and faced the new commander. "I've just spent two hours trying to get through these ridiculous Bajoran docking regulations."  
Sisko smiled and waved towards Kira, who smirked. "You'll have to take that up with Colonel Kira I'm afraid. This station is still Bajoran property and under Bajoran administration. Starfleet is here simply to assist with that administration and provide support to Bajor." The smile steeled over. "In short, the Colonel will be responsible for day to day running of the station, so I'm afraid you will have to speak to her."  
Dukat, barely concealing a sneer, didn't even acknowledge the woman's existence. "As I was mentioned earlier, in the interests of Federation/Cardassian relations, the Empire considers the trial and execution of these war criminals to be a top priority. We have been stalled by the Bajorans for the last five years, but I hope that you will prove to be the reasonable man I've heard you are."  
Then the murmuring started. What made it worse was that it was in the same language that the two had spoken in before. Sisko now wished that he'd studied all Bajoran native dialects.  
Unfortunately for Ben Sisko, what Odo and Kira were speaking was a conglomerate they'd made up between themselves over the passage of years. Very few people on Bajor would have been able to understand one word in three, and only two knew it in its entirety.  
"_He's floundering._"  
"_I disagree. I think he's doing rather well._"  
"_You're only saying that because Dukat doesn't know what to make of him._"  
"_I'm saying that because he's lying like a champion. Notice how he's doing everything in his power *not* to look at us?_"  
"_That's because *we're* talking, Ital._"  
"_You started it, Nerys. I just merely responded._"  
Sisko cleared his throat. "*If* you two don't mind..." he said in Federation Standard.  
Odo switched back to standard. "Don't worry about us, we're fine."  
"Go ahead," said Kira. "We're just keeping score."  
"Perhaps," added Dukat, "you could even restrain certain *bad habits* amongst your crew."  
"_Now look what you made us do._"  
"_*Me*? You're the one who started chatting..._"  
Sisko leaned back in his chair. "They aren't my crew yet, Gul. I have yet to earn their respect."  
"_Subtitled: You obviously didn't, Spoonhead._"  
"_*Ital*... Shush. You don't want to make him angry._"  
"_Dukat doesn't *get* angry, Nerys. He just gets vexed._"  
Dukat glared them down once more. "This sort of chaos wouldn't have happened under an organized, disciplined Cardassian government."  
"As I understood things," Sisko said breezily, "that organized and disciplined government was ousted five years ago by a more organized, more disciplined militia."  
"_Flattery may get him somewhere,_" Kira commented with a wry smirk.  
"_Perhaps. He's just getting my points by making Dukat blush._"  
"_He's blushing?_"  
"_Can't you tell? He's going dark around the ridges._"  
"Perhaps, Commander; you can get this disciplined and organised milita of yours to fix the Universal Translators? They seem to be malfunctioning whenever those two talk among themselves."  
Odo piped up in Standard at this point. "They don't work on invented tongues, Gul Dukat."  
Kira pitched in. "We've had a few years to develop it together. It works very well for intelligence."  
Dukat quietly seethed. "Nevertheless," he managed through gritted teeth. "It is my ongoing duty to find these war criminals."  
"The Bajoran government doesn't recognise those individuals as criminals," said Kira. "You'd have an uphill battle with extradition, anyway."  
"How odd," smarmed Dukat. "Cardassia doesn't recognise the Bajoran government as an official ruling body..."  
"Which is why Starfleet insists on maintaining a presence," eased Sisko. "Ongoing conflict is troublesome to Starfleet's interests in this area."  
"I don't know why you're interested in Bajor," said Dukat. "Boring, backwards... a planet full of beligerant religious extremists. Who'd want them?"  
"You did, as I recall. Why was that?"  
Dukat sighed. "Something about their natural resources and so forth. I don't question my superiors, Sisko."  
"Really? I've always found it healthier to ask questions when things seem to be going wrong."  
"Those sorts of questions are very dangerous... Commander."  
"Of course. Otherwise, they're not worth asking."  
Dukat glared at him. Then dismissed the issue as completely unimportant. "I have war criminals to find. You have... catching up to do... What do you want?" This last was adressed to a monk who had materialised at the desk.  
"Commander Benjamin Sisko," said the monk. "It is time."  
"Time for what?"  
"It is *time*."  
Dukat supplied no information whatsoever, he merely rolled his eyes and left the area as if someone had left a very bad smell there.  
Kira looked stunned.  
Odo looked... pissed off. "Why *him*? Why now?"  
The monk simply repeated himself. "It is time."  
Odo made a noise somewhere between a scoff and a growl.  
"Time for *what*?" said Sisko.  
Kira gripped his shoulder. "Time to for you to go to the temple," she said. "The Kai... and the Prophets... are waiting."

Odo didn't run when his emotions got the better of him. Not even after he sobered up, following the Embaressing Incident With The Poison Dart. He just walked. Non-stop, and at great speed. He walked so fast that others had to run to keep up. If they knew he was gone.  
He'd left Ops after Nerys had fondled Sisko, with no other need than to be Away from the entire scene. He felt so angry the heat from it could boil his liquid state.  
He kept walking, through little forgotten walkways and through places he usually retreated to when he wanted to be away from whatever was bothering him. Except she could find him in all of those places. He didn't want to be tracked down five minutes after she noticed he was missing. Not this time.  
He wanted her to really look for him, not systematically check the places he liked to go.  
That was why he caught up to himself staring out the windows of 10-forward. On the visiting Starfleet ship. Enterprise.  
Bajor was visible through those windows. Beautiful, gem-like Bajor. Flirting with the universe through her veil of clouds.  
"Never gets old, does it?"  
Odo startled. The woman had appeared out of nowhere. Or he'd been so pickled in his own anger that he hadn't noticed her.  
"Looking out at your home planet," she qualified. "No matter what mood you're in... a glimpse of home always makes you feel better."  
"Home..." Odo tasted the word. "Bajor *is* where I spent most of my life. I guess... 'home' would work. Technically."  
"I'm sorry. I thought you were Bajoran."  
"Not Bajoran enough." Never Bajoran enough. She flirted with freighter captains and the odd monk and old Resistance allies... but not her partner-in-crime. He wasn't Bajoran enough.  
"That sounds like the start of an interesting story," said the woman in the ludicrously large and unnecessary hat.  
"And a long one," he said.  
"I like stories," she said. "And I'm a good listener."  
Odo looked about for an excuse and found none. He sighed. "When the Bajorans found me, I was approximately forty ounces of scanner-confusing liquid. Part organic, part inorganic, part alive and part... not. They didn't understand what I was. For the first six months of development, everything I learned was through some kind of error on their part. Accidents. The scientist assigned to me thought I was some kind of alien novelty. Until the day I proved to him I was cogniscient."  
"Sounds like it was quiet a task."  
"It *was*. He had me copying objects. Simple shapes and so forth. I spent days running through old tests before I hit on the idea of copying something I'd never copied before."  
She was hanging on his every word. Whispered. "What was it?"  
"My container at the time. A krokan petri beaker. He used it to keep track of my resting volume. Usually, I'd be waiting in it for him to arrive in the morning... but *that* day, I copied it in every detail, sitting right next to it."  
"Did he notice?"  
"Not right away. No. It took him half an hour to realise where and what I was. He was in such a fluster, he disrupted all the other work on that floor to show me off." He loosed a sigh as deep as his anguish. "I thought it would stop the torture. It only refined it."  
"Torture? On a cogniscient being?"  
"This was during the occupation. The Cardassian overseers only cared about progress. If he didn't torture me... they'd torture his family. The only thing that stopped it was a Resistance raid." Another deep sigh. "She stopped touching me after she found out I wasn't humanoid."  
"She being...?"  
"Nerys."  
"*Ah*..." said the woman. "Now we've got to the point."  
"The point?"  
"Of why you're up here."  
He stared at her. Confident, alien eyes. Not quite human. Old and knowing. "I assumed it was just... some kind of unconscious isolationism. Many of the Resistance were Bajor-for-the-Bajorans types, despite their dealings with alien gun-runners and so forth. And then she goes and touches this... *human*. As if a call from the Prophets makes him instantly more Bajoran than someone who's lived there their whole life..."  
"It's unfair."  
Odo scoffed at that one. "Life is unfair. I learned that early. It doesn't have to keep *teaching* it to me."  
"Mmm," murmured the woman. "It shouldn't, but it does. That's what makes it really unfair."  
"Ha! Everyone on Bajor knew that the Prophets would call an Outsider to be their Emmisary. Half the cells on Bajor had an alien on their side... just in case." He closed his eyes, leaning against the transparent aluminium window. "I thought I was worth something. I thought I was helping. Maybe they let me think it... and all this time I was another Spare. Kept around for convenience's sake. Nothing all over again."  
"Hardly nothing. From what I heard, all the 'Spares' were kept away from the fighting. Were you?"  
"Of course not. I was in the thick of it with Nerys."  
"Then perhaps you're more 'of Bajor' than you think."  
"I never said the Prophecy mentioned that."  
"I'm a *very* good listener." Another enigmatic smile. "Before I came back here, I toured the Promenade. I overheard a lot of gossip."  
"So you followed me."  
"We just wound up in the same place."  
"I think you were hunting another *story*."  
"I do admit you seem to have an interesting soul. I'd like to listen to any stories you may have to share."  
"I'm not here for your amusement."  
"I never said you were. I'm just willing to listen. You could tell me about your Nerys..."  
"She isn't mine..." _And likely never will be._ "It's more like... I'm hers. If she should ask."  
The Listener winced. "That's got to hurt."  
"Every day. But I can't escape it. Being away just... hurts more."  
"Unrequited love," she shook her head. Slowly. Sadly. "It can only end one of two ways. Tragedy... or victory."  
"I think I can guess which is rarer," said Odo. "Victory."  
A grin. "What made you such an out-and-out cynic?"

Kira was starting to get worried. She couldn't find him in his favourite hiding places. She couldn't find him in the thousands of nooks and crannies that he'd found on the numerous occasions when he was really mad at her. The Cardassians wouldn't have let him on their ship and guarded their turf with ferocious tenacity.  
Would he even go on a Starfleet vessel?  
According to the computer, yes, he would.  
The computer aboard the Enterprise was more amenable than the one on the station. It even gave her friendly lights to follow.  
Kira wanted to kick it.  
Five seconds after she found Odo in 10-Forward, she wanted to kick *him*.  
To any outside observer, he was talking animatedly to a dark-skinned woman with a warm laugh.  
To Kira... he was flirting with a complete stranger. And she was actively interested in him.  
It didn't matter that the stranger failed to find his lipless smile peculiar. Not as much as the fact that they were laughing at one of Odo's Kira stories.  
"...and somewhere out there, there's a Cardassian Lieutenant with the *left* half... trying to justify the expense of an entire set of armour."  
"Odo," said Kira. "Nice to find you in high spirits for a change. Usually, when you run off on me, you go away to sulk."  
"I did need to think things over," he said, with one of his patented head-bobbles that were neither yes nor no, yet managed to condescend that the speaker had something of a point.  
"Isn't your friend a little old for you?" she snarked with pure venom.  
"See?" said the stranger. "You don't have that much to worry about after all."  
"And what's that supposed to mean?" Kira demanded.  
"Maybe it means I've stopped being your furniture," said Odo. He rose smoothly to meet her eye-line. "Or invisible. All this time, and all I had to do was talk to a stranger."  
"She's an offworlder!"  
"So am I!"  
"Well if you two have so much in common, maybe you should move in with her."  
"If that's all it takes to have something in common, it's no wonder you're dallying with every Bajoran male who crosses your path..."  
"*Dallying*? I've had three dinner dates in as many *years*."  
"Is that what they're calling it now?" He folded his arms. "You're 'dinner dates' tend to go on for quite a while. The last one went on for a week."  
"Odo, you know I never bring them home."  
"No, you go to their place. You leave me alone without a word or a sign. For days on end. The only time I see you is when you're stuck to them like a leech on the Promenade!"  
"You're old enough to look after yourself. You don't need me as your hide-mama. You never did!"  
"Maybe I needed you as something else!"  
"You're fifteen!"  
"Ageist peska!"  
"Liquid freak!"  
"If that's all I am to you, why didn't you toss me out the instant I came of age?"  
"I don't do that to my friends!"  
"You hardly treat me like one of your friends..."  
"And what does *that* mean?"  
"You never take *me* out on one of your week-long 'dinner dates'."  
"You're *fifteen*... I know them better!"  
"We've spent nine years living in each other's elbows! How can you *not* know me?"  
"Well maybe that's a few years too long."  
"Then maybe I should move out, if you've had enough of me."  
"Maybe you should just kiss each other and get it over with," said the alien stranger.  
"You stay out of this!" they both barked together.  
A moment that could have changed worlds all over again swirled between the Bajoran and the shapeshifter.  
"I don't have time for this. There's Cardassians all over my station, and *I* have to deal with them."  
"Fine. I'll help."  
"Fine."  
"Fine.  
"*Fine*."  
"Fine!"  
Behind them, unseen, Guinan rolled her eyes and shook her head. This was a story that she dearly wanted to hang around for, but she knew she'd have to hear about it later. By the time she came back to it, it would be blown out of all proportion, but stories always sounded better that way.

Odo bought his security detail to heel by a series of subtle hand signals, directing them to the sources of trouble and surrounding them with fast efficiency. He managed to surprise Glin Ketar by silently creeping up behind him and announcing, "That's enough."  
It was such a joy to see a Cardassian momentarily frightened. He covered magnificently by grinning and saying, "Oh look, it's the freak."  
Odo glared him down. _You have no power over me,_ he reminded himself. _I can kill you with a thought, but I choose not to._ "I sincerely hope you're not looking for trouble, here," he said. "I'm sure Gul Dukat would be most upset if his Second was locked in my cells at launch hour."  
"You wouldn't have the balls," sneered Ketar.  
"If you're trying to goad me into sparking an interplanetary incident, you're going to have to try harder," droned Odo. "You can't insult my family, my friends, my genetic history or my chosen mate."  
"Of course. You don't have any."  
And since mentioning Nerys would be more than wrong at this moment... "I heard from Administrator Frekkis that your lady wife actually looks forward to your away missions," he said. "And so does he."  
Ketar threw the first blow.  
Odo was ready. He let the Cardassian's fist pass harmlessly through him and reformed while twisting the offending limb so that Ketar was effectively pacified. "Assaulting an officer of the Bajoran militia. Instigating interplanetary conflict. Disturbing the peace. Destruction of public property. Loitering. Loitering with intent. Assault of station personnel..." he sighed and added under his breath, "Even though it's Quark..."  
"Thank you," murmured the Ferengi. "Add vandalism to the list. He's busted five bottles of my finest Romulan Wine."  
"Vandalism and verbal assault. You're under arrest."  
Ketar went pale. "The shapeshifter..."  
"And use of racist slurs," said Odo.  
"I know someone who's been looking for you," said Ketar.  
"Move along," growled Odo.

Kira stalked along the habitat ring, unaware that she was using the exact same stealth tactics and hand signals to her junior officers that Odo used with his. On each of the five floors, there were two corridors, and numerous hallways between. She had to sweep all of them to make sure that no spare spoon-heads were causing trouble amongst old victims.  
Or, if they were making friends with old collaborators, to take down names.  
She never gained Odo's knack for having piercingly sharp recall. She'd have to use the mini-datapadd she kept in her holster... but she'd have names.  
Names infinitely valuable to the Bajoran Council.  
"Stay away from me!"  
Ah, now that sounded like trouble brewing on the fast-boil. Kira crept around the corner.  
Selim Taer. She'd been fairly tried and found to have extenuating circumstances. She only cosied up to Cardassians to stop them doing nasty things to her extended family.  
And now there was a Cardassian trying to re-acquaint himself with her, and she was using an old phaser and shaky aim to try and fend him off.  
Odds evens, that thing would blow up her, the Cardassian, and half the corridor. The skeleton of this hunk of junk station was inlaid with toranium. The structure of it would remain intact, but everything organic within reach of the blast would be paste.  
She and her companion guard had already drawn their weapons.  
"That's more than enough. You. Back away. Selim? You should've handed that in during the last amnesty."  
"And leave me without protection? Like hell!"  
The Cardassian was smirking, even as the guard cuffed him.  
"Selim..."  
"No! The next time, they mightn't stop at making a noise."  
"You can swap that volatile piece of crap for a high-power stunner."  
"I don't wanna stun them, I wanna flakking *kill* them!" Her grip was getting pretty tight on that trigger.  
"You use that, you'll kill him, yourself, your kids, and everyone in this sector of the station. Put it down."  
She was crying. Hyperventillating.  
"Taer..." Kira gestured with her empty hand. "C'mon. I'll swap you."  
Now the Cardassian was looking nervous. He had a close look at the phaser pistol in her hand. He knew it was lethal.  
"...my kids...?"  
"Yes. It'd hurt them."  
She handed over the aged phaser pistol, and was rather quick to grab Kira's off of her. Just as Kira was rather quick to field-strip the decaying weapon and hand the volatile bits off to the nearest horrified-looking techie.  
"Take him away," Kira dumped the remaining pieces down the nearest mass disposal chute. "You have to make a report, Selim. If we don't do anything now, he'll keep coming back."  
"Then I'll have to tell everyone about my son. They'll know."  
One of the small shapes behind her, peeking out of a secondary door, was considerably greyer than its siblings.  
"You birthed a half-breed?"  
"I thought he was my husband's... And he died so soon after. I made a lot of promises to the Prophets... and when he was born..."  
"I'll tell Odo to be discrete." And she'd make flakking certain Odo was discrete.  
At the end of the day, he'd beat her number of arrested Cardassians by one. Sisko, Odo and herself danced the typical dance of extradition with charges, and there was some business involving anomalies in the Denorios Belt. To be continued later.  
Kira completely forgot about their argument until she came home.

Her quarters had been very meticulously ransacked. Everything of hers was still in its place, everything was clean and tidy.  
And there was a significant hole where Odo's things were.  
Not that he had much in the way of belongings. There was his pail, a few treasures and the occasional temporary piece of art that fascinated him for one reason or another.  
All gone now.  
He'd moved out. Without a by-your-leave. Without a word. Without so much as a thank-you.  
Gone.  
She'd been living with him for so long... it was a shock to find him missing from her life.  
No more aggravation.  
No more nightly banter.  
No more arguments.  
No more incoming art.  
How could one person make her life so full, yet so infuriating at the same time?  
Kira took a breath, let it out, and got on with her evening routine. Meditation. Dinner. Paperwork.  
It didn't hit until she found a report Odo would have snarked at, making her laugh. There was only silence. No friendly beige shape in her peripheral vision to keep her company.  
No Odo bustling around. Picking up her shed clothes. Reclaiming her dirty dishes.  
She thought she was so neat. And now the one who made neat happen was not there any more.  
Kira picked up her plate and glass and began to shake. Tears blurred her vision. Her glass shattered on the floor and so did she.

He was shaking. Why?  
It was clear that Nerys didn't want him any more. It was best to make a clean break of it. Let her go her own way and allow him to find his.  
The small space behind the main office sufficed for resting space. There was enough room for a replicator, his pail, and the scant few things he called his own.  
This one... he had taken on a mission with her. It was his prize. She agreed. Insisted. But they'd won it together.  
He shook worse. Violently.  
Lost cohesion.  
He was thankful that he was locked away in this little room. Where no-one could see. He couldn't let go of the trophy, even though his fingers had long since turned into tendrils of orange goo. He fought to choke down his native noises of anguish. Someone would hear. Someone would Know.  
Someone was looking for him. The Cardassian probably said that to get him paranoid.  
He curled himself around the knicknack and tried desperately to regain his usual, humanoid shape. It hurt. Every detail hurt.  
Because she hated him. And he couldn't avoid her all the time.  
{blee-doop} "Senior staff members to ops."  
Case in point.  
Odo put the knicknack down, steeled himself, and marched smartly into the worst events of his life to date.

This newest host was still finding her feet with Dax, and she was essentially thrown into the deep end with a bunch of aliens who did not exactly welcome her presence.  
Colonel Kira had already had her hackles raised when their new doctor, Bashir, had put his foot in his mouth within five seconds of setting it on station soil. She had wept at some point in time, but Sisko personally doubted it was anything to do with the enthusiastic Lieutenant.  
Sisko sensed friction between herself and the enigmatic Odo. Both were sitting as far as possible apart from each other at the strategy display and both were studiously ignoring the other. Bashir, completely ignorant, was chatting amiably about the Bajoran improvements to the Cardassian systems left behind by the previous administration.  
And then, because he'd noticed Odo's peculiar features - or lack thereof - he had to put his foot in his mouth again.  
"I can correct that, if you'd like."  
"Correct what?"  
"The... um..." he gestured at his own face. "Damage. I've read texts about correcting plasma burns and I could--"  
"There's no damage to my face, doctor."  
"But-- what--?"  
"Leave it, Doctor Bashir," said Sisko. "We have more important matters before us. Dax?"  
Jadzia changed the display to include a schematic of the Bajoran solar system. "In an effort to locate the 'celestial temple', I began by tracking down the locations where all the known orbs were found." A scattering of lights from Bajor to the Denorios Belt. "Then I correlated this with unusual phenomenon and navigational mishaps." A veritable galaxy of points, this time, clustered around a specific point in space.  
Odo's hand reached out and touched one. He regarded it almost with... hunger. The instant he noticed someone watching him, he pulled away and resumed pretence at normalicy.  
"There's numerous reports of elevated neutrino counts in that area. If it isn't the Bajoran 'celestial temple', then it's a good place to start."  
"Excuse me, sir," said O'Brien, "but aren't the Cardassians watching? They'll love any old excuse to stir up trouble."  
"I wouldn't worry about that," said Kira. "We gave them the old Bajoran Hospitality special. Their ship should have a plague of minor troubles in..." she checked the chrono. "Three to five minutes."  
"Add a station-wide lepton leak to that mix and they probably won't even know you've gone," said Odo.  
"Even if they did, they wouldn't be able to do anything about it," said Kira. She turned to Odo as if to say something, then let the moment pass.  
If Odo noticed, he didn't display so much as a flicker of acknowledgement.  
"All right," said Sisko. "Let's play our strengths. Colonel. Odo. A minute in my office?"

Odo risked a sub-telepathic look with Kira. She was lost, too.  
"When I came here," said Sisko, standing behind his desk. "I met the best team that could ever exist. Now that team is showing all the signs of being broken. What. Happened?"  
Kira glared at him. Odo glared at her.  
"I don't have time for staring contests."  
Odo sighed. "If the Colonel doesn't want me around any more, that's her business. Not yours."  
"I never said I don't want you around."  
"Well you hardly make me feel welcome any more."  
"If this is about my dates again..."  
"Weeks aren't 'dates'."  
"Stop!" Sisko barked. "I don't have time for arguments, either. I need that crack team on my side. Here. And *now*. I don't think I need to emhasise the importance of this little mission."  
"I understand," said Kira.  
"You don't have to get along," said Sisko. "But you do need to work together. As that crack team. I need that team working against the Cardassians. I assume you can do that."  
Odo looked to Kira. The look said, _Just like old times._  
"You assume correctly," said Odo.  
"We've done some hefty damage when we were... arguing," said Kira. "We can do some more."  
"Don't kill anyone," said Sisko.  
It was hard to tell if he was joking or not. Therefore, he gave the default Bajoran nod/bow of understanding.  
"Right," said Sisko. He left without a farewell, only picking up Dax along the way.  
"I'll take care of the leptons. You make sure the spoonheads didn't leave us any parting gifts."  
"Me? Why am I always checking for sabotage?" Odo complained.  
"Because you get into places the others can't reach."  
Odo began to stalk out, muttering, "_I'm sure that's why you never touched me,_" in their code-tongue.  
"What?" Kira squeaked, overflowing with disbelief.  
But it was already too late. She'd have to catch him. And there was nothing slipperier than a shapeshifter who didn't want to be found. He dove into the vents and did his work, scouring through the station's internal workings for anything untoward. He was more thorough and faster than any scanner. Better than any team of techies.  
This was what he excelled at.  
This was what made life worth living.  
...and Nerys. Who wouldn't touch him.  
He pushed that though to the back of his mind and flowed onwards, seeing out an eliminating any Cardassian 'surprises' as he found them. Fight later. Work now.

What the hell was he talking about? Kira fumed. Well, she wouldn't be able to hash it out with him until later. "Computer, initiate program Lep-seventeen in one minute."  
Chief O'Brien's console chirped. "I'm reading a low-grade distress call from Gul Dukat's ship. They're dead in space and half their systems are going crazy."  
{Initiating program,} said the computer.  
Kira slammed her comm badge. "Kira to Sisko. The time is now."  
She watched the runabout soar off into the deep black, tracking it via her strategic display. Bajoran techies had long since made the station immune to Lepton interferance, though they could easily pretend such blindness if necessary.  
"Opening an audio link with the Rio Grande," said O'Brien.  
Odo emerged from the 'bottom' of Ops, apparently carrying a small bag, which he emptied on the central tactics table. "Seventeen. They're getting sloppy."  
"Cardassia's having a bad week," said a Bajoran techie, much to the amusement of the Ops crew.  
"Nice work, Constable," said Kira. She kept her eyes and ears on Sisko's little ship.  
Odo kept his eyes and ears on the Cardassians. That 'nice work' wasn't over just yet.  
{"Sensors are picking up unusually high proton counts,"} said Dax's voice.  
{"Setting new course to those co-ordinates."}  
A gentle fuzz, and then the link died.  
"Chief," Kira barked.  
"We've lost contact," said O'Brien, stating what they already knew. "Scanners are reading a major subspace disruption at their last known coordinates."  
"What the hell is happening out there?"  
The human gave her a helpless, worried look. "I don't know, sir. They're just... gone."  
"At least the Cardassians haven't noticed," reported Odo. "They're still trying to repair their vessel."  
"Keep an eye on them. Chief, aim every last sensor we have on that area and gather up all intel. I don't want to have to tell Starfleet we lost two of their crew."  
"Aye, sir."  
Odo had his look of determined concentration. Nothing was going to take his attention away from the Cardassians short of direct fire at the station.  
Therefore, she kept a weather eye on the neutrino and subspace readouts in the Denorios Belt. Knowing Starfleet, they had to analyse and discuss everything. Even a quick investigation could take a handful of minutes. Minutes in which their lowly staff were on tenterhooks, waiting for some kind of word.  
She should have sent a Bajoran with them. At least her people knew how to get things done and get on with the rest of it.  
"Their sensors are coming back... intermittantly," Odo reported.  
"Another neutrino disruption," said O'Brien.  
"Scaners are picking up an object near their last known co-ordinates... It's too small to be a ship."  
"Hurry... they're getting their sensors back online," said Odo.  
Damnit. "Yellow alert! Beam that thing aboard in a level one security field."  
It was an Orb. A Tear of the Prophets. But only so for a fraction of a second. Then it dissolved into the form of Lieutenant Jadzia Dax.  
"Drop the field. Maintain alert. Dax, Full report."  
Odo subtly crept closer. Kira knew why. He'd been doing sporadic research into his origins for years, now. One of those little dots on Dax's phenomena collection was him, practically at the dawn of the Occupation, adrift in a vessel none could explain.  
Dax, of course, was unaware. She continued to state facts and figures, with no clue as to the subtle agitation radiating off Odo.  
He'd left his informal post.  
She'd chew him out later.  
"The Cardassians are leaving their position," reported O'Brien. "They're headed for the Denorios Belt."  
Shit. "What would it take to move this station to the mouth of the wormhole?"  
"This isn't a Starship, Colonel. Even with all our thrusters, it'd take a week, tops."  
"We haven't got a week. We need to be there tomorrow."  
"That's impossible."  
"That wormhole might just reshape the future of this entire quadrant. The Bajorans have to stake a claim to it..." She looked up from the strategy table, stared him down. "And I have to admit that claim will be a lot stronger if there's a Federation presence to back it up."  
Dax and O'Brien began their technobabble. Solving a problem that hadn't existed before. Kira busied herself with simulations. It wouldn't be Bajoran space without periodic attempts from Cardassia to take back what they'd once stolen.  
Right now, the only thing faster than the crippled Cardassian vessel was one of Starfleet's runabouts. "You have Ops, Mr O'Brien." She started marching towards the turbolift. "Lieutenant, you're with me. You too, Doc. Time to be a hero."  
Odo followed unbidden.

"You're not."  
"I am."  
"That was an order."  
"I didn't hear it that way."  
"I can make it an order."  
"I can resign my commission and tag along anyway."  
"I can't let you go."  
"You can't stop me."  
"Maybe I can slow you down enough to get away."  
"Maybe I won't let you do that."  
"Constable..."  
He took her hand in his. Locked gazes with her. "*Nerys*... You *know* why I need to go."  
She read his face, sighed, and escaped his grasp. "Fine. Just don't get yourself killed."  
He marched in step behind her, ignoring the stares of the befuddled Starfleeet officers trailling in their wake.

It was the weirdest stellar race of all time. The Cardassian ship was limping along on maneuvering thrusters, the Station, lumbering against inertia in its own warp bubble, and then there was the runabout, zinging into the lead and ignoring their weapons out of an intense desire for self-preservation.  
If anyone was going to shoot first, it was going to be the Cardassians.  
Kira won the race, but only by a matter of minutes.  
"Here they come," said Dax.  
"Heading straight for it," said Kira.  
Bashir decided to put his naiive oar in. "They've got to listen to reason, haven't they? When we warn them what could happen if they go in there..."  
Odo decided to shoot his youthful optimism square in the head. "Doctor, most people in my experience wouldn't know reason if it walked up and shook their hand. You can count Gul Dukat among them."  
Kira tried hailing them anyway. On her final report, she had to truthfully state she tried everything she could to prevent trouble.  
"Yes, Colonel?" said Dukat.  
"Gul Gukat, I know you're headed for the wormhole."  
Dukat played dumb. His favourite game. "Wormhole? Which wormhole is that?"  
Kira relied on the double-speak of diplomacy. "I strongly suggest you do not proceed. We encountered a hostile lifeform inside."  
"Perhaps they would be less hostile to Cardassians than to humans," he smoothed with his typical egotistical smarm.  
"Dukat," barked Odo. "I know you're not going to listen to 'mere Bajorans', or 'Federation upstarts', but you *should* listen to warnings. We *are* warning you. If you proceed, you might just be lucky to live to regret it."  
"Really." Dukat loomed next to the vid pickup. "Next you'll be telling me that these are not the lifeforms that sent the orbs... or that your Commander Sisko is not negotiating for their technology." He smiled his 'patronising and paternal' smile that encouraged so many Bajorans to try and kill him. "Thank you for your concern. But I think we'll see for ourselves."  
He cut the comms, allowing them all to see his ship head into the gigantic purple blossom that was the wormhole.  
"So much for reason," growled Odo.  
Dax's hands were flying over her console. "Those readings are incredible. Neutron bursts, polarised ions... subspace folds all over the place... this is incredible."  
"We're being hailed by a Cardassian vessel," said Odo. "Long range."  
"...again with the Cardassians," Kira muttered under her breath. "Patch them through."  
"What did you do to Dukat's vessel, Bajoran?"  
"We didn't do anything, he did it to himself."  
"We saw your ships in proximity, then we saw a burst of EM static and the sudden disappearance of our fleet vessel. You must have done something. This is an act of war."  
"No," said Odo, "your empire's repeated forays into Bajoran space are an act of war. We just choose diplomacy to turn you around again. Listen... Gul Nalar, isn't it? We were investigating a spatial anomaly in this area. Gul Dukat *chose* to dive in headlong. We can send you the comms recording."  
"Recordings can be tampered with."  
"In *this* much time?"  
Gul Nalar fumed. "Fine. We may be prepared to accept these recordings. In the meantime, I strongly suggest that you make an effort to produce Gul Dukat, his ship, *and* his crew. In pristine condition!" He cut the comms.  
"We'd better go after him," Kira decided.  
"Bringing us into position," said Dax.  
The wormhole flared before they got there, and vanished into a pinpoint of light.  
"What was that?"  
"I... don't know," said Dax. "The wormhole's... not there any more."

Odo stared into the space where it had been. He didn't know why. There was no trace of it when it was closed. Only when it decided to open.  
All his hopes and dreams. All his possibilities. Gone in a sprinkling of light.  
_Prophets, why?_  
But if that was their temple... The Prophets weren't there, any more.  
His first instinct was rage against Dukat and all Cardassians like him. But Dukat was, if he was lucky, trapped on the other side of the anomaly with his hubris and a ship full of angry crew-mates. If he was unlucky... well... maybe the Prophets were meting out some long-prayed-for justice.  
But how to lure the other Cardassians in?  
And what of Sisko?  
And why would the Prophets leave after so many thousands of years of existing here?  
Work. Focus on work. Not on etherial miracles. Monitor the distant Cardassian ship.  
"They're sending a message to Cardassia prime, coming about... But not engaging their engines."  
"We're fully armed," said Kira. "They're not going to start a war without authorization."

Odo was on the Promenade, making sure a nervous populace remained calm, when a flicker of motion drew his attention to the upper landing windows.  
There was no mistaking that purple bloom. Nor the distinctive shapes of both runabout and Galor-class warship. The former towing the latter.  
The Prophets returned.  
The Cardassians went back to Cardassian space without a shot being fired. Sabres rattled, he had no doubt, but nobody had to die, today.  
Today was a good day, as far as he was concerned.  
Except for the part where he was officially homeless and Nerys didn't want him around, any more. That part hurt.  
Odo retreated to his office to file paperwork and - if he had to be honest - sulk. He was tired of following after her, as ignorable a part of the world as her shadow. Let her see if she noticed. Let her work at it to get him back.  
If she wanted him at all.  
_That's right, Odo. When in doubt, sink into a pessimistic funk. Make yourself completely unlikeable. No wonder she dates all those other people. Anything to be away from you and your Moods._  
Work. Focus on the work. There were endless reams of it, and he had every hour of his active cycle to chew through the mountainous pile.  
If he didn't leave his office, he didn't have to think about patrolling. If he didn't patrol, his mind's compass would not swing due Nerys and measure every potential step to her side. This far to her quarters. So far to her station. These many steps to her favorite restaurant.  
Or that far to where he had seen her on one of her fantasically horrifying week-long 'dates'.  
A flicker of red in his peripheral vision, heading towards the temple, made him turn his back to the Promenade as a whole. It would be her time to go to the temple, around now. Forty-seven steps, in all, including civillian-dodging. She would be inside - a further dozen steps - kneeling in prayer.  
He would not join her. Not today.  
He had paperwork.  
Lots of it.  
And a hole inside him that felt like his Core was going to shatter.

Breathe. Centre. Be.  
Peace was long in coming, today. For a start, there wasn't that reassuring warmth on her right side. That companionable presence that signaled rightness in the world.  
The Prophets never spoke to him, like they so rarely did to her. He said he didn't mind, but... he did. Some part of him ached for the slightest touch...  
Flash.  
Clear vision. Watching a memory from the outside.  
Sisko, summoned to the temple.  
Her hand, touching his shoulder.  
And Odo's face, looking like he wished he could implode.  
Kira opened her eyes. "Prophets... what have I done?" she whispered.

"What'll it be? First drink on the house, dreadful custom, but it keeps 'em coming in."  
"What's the strongest drink you've got?" said Odo. He'd run out of paperwork and decided to try some of this 'fun' these humanoids kept rabbiting on about. Primary on their ways to enjoy it was getting drunk.  
Quark whimpered, but held up a finger. "One moment."  
He came back with a fishbowl emanating white vapour. Odo boggled at it. "What *is* that?"  
"Warp core breach," he said. "The most devastating drink known to sentient life next to the pan-galactic gargle blaster, and you have to sign a waiver to drink them."  
Odo swallowed a growl and picked the thing up, pouring it down his simulated mouth and into a cavity he prepared for the task.  
"Heywaitasecond, you'resupposedtosipit!" Quark panicked and ducked under the bar.  
Odo let the liquid blend with his mass. The bubbles were interesting, but the alcohol only made him feel warm. The sundry other additives did nothing for him. He sighed white vapour. "Give me that waiver. I'll try one of those galactic gargle things."  
Quark picked himself up and boggled. "The last person who did that *died*..." nevertheless, he reached under the bar to produce a Ferengi datapadd. "Thumbscan here. I'll go mix the volatiles."  
Odo let the device scan him. Not for fingerprints, but for epithelials, which were less likely to be faked.  
It was a deceptively small drink, for all of the precautions.  
He knocked it back and analyzed it the same way. Nothing.  
"Got anything that effects silicate life?" he asked.  
"That last one should have done something, that stuff even knocks Hortas for a loop." He had a kind of amazed respect growing. "You should try an Elektric Floorbanger."  
"You should start a tab," suggested Odo.  
"I should start taking bets..." Quark murmured on his way to the replicator.

There was a swarm around Quark's. People were craning their necks to see whatever spectacle was within. Kira found one whom appeared to be enjoying themselves and tapped them on the shoulder.  
"What's going on?" she asked, "Morn on another bender?"  
"No, it's Odo. He's drinkin' the menu!"  
"Bingo!" Cheered a rough voice. "Something at last!"  
The crowd cheered and applauded. Kira tried to shove her way through. The crowd refused to yield, they were enjoying the spectacle too much. She barged her way past an endless barrier of backs and shoulders, fought dirty with elbows and her own shoulders. Used whatever leverage she could gain to push her way further into the mass of people.  
"Security to the Promenade. Crowd dispersal needed at the Promenade," she called on the comms. Maybe it would help. But then, there were a few tan uniforms in the press. She couldn't be sure. The only real way out was to defuse the situation and get Odo the heck out of there.  
She struggled through the front, where a cautious circle centered on Odo. Even Morn, who usually sat two chairs away, was keeping his distance.  
"Odo!" Kira stopped his arm from carrying its latest burden to his mouth. "What in the name of the Prophets are you *doing*?"  
"I'm trying to have fun," he growled, and shapeshifted past her restraint and sank it anyway. "Isn't this how it starts?"  
"How what starts?"  
"Come on, Nerys... I've watched you. You go to a bar... or a stash... You get buzzed. You start talking to someone and then you vanish with them for a week or more." He belched white vapour. "Peska."  
"You're coming with me," she decided. Trying to haul him away. He was heavier than he looked. "Get up!"  
"But I ain't started talkin' to nobody, yet," he argued.  
God damn drunk logic... "You're talking to *me*, aren't you?"  
"Hey... Tha's right..." he grinned. "Does this mean I find out where you get to?"  
"We'll see," she smiled. "C'mon, let's go talk elsewhere. It's too crowded here."  
"Yaknow what I don' unnerstand?" he said as he stood. "I don' unnerstand why they leave. 'Fit was me? I'd treasure you f'r however long it could last. I'd want *way* more than justa week. I'd like months. Mebbe years."  
"Thaaaat's nice," she said. "C'mon, I know somewhere real quiet." This was almost like the Poison Dart Incident. He'd spent two days hanging on the ceiling and making rude noises at someone called 'Mora', who only he could see. She'd had to talk him down and tried everything to sober him up. A quick dip in the local river had solved a lot of problems.  
And there was always one place on the station that had a body of water handy.  
"Out of the way," she barked at those still blocking her path. "Out of the way! You think I'm gonna sell tickets? Movit! Move!" A combination of her cursing and the security detail clearing them away from the other end made her a path. Kira still kept a tight grip on her partner. One arm around his waist, the other clinging to his arm as it draped across her shoulders.  
"So this is what it takes," Odo mused. "All I needed t' do was get *ripped*... an' you can touch me..."  
"Oh, I'll touch you after you sober up, too," Kira vowed.  
"Thank you, Prophets!"

Odo was feeling very agreeable. He felt good. All the things that had been hurting him seemed to be sent to a different room. In shame. And better, Nerys was finally holding him. With both hands. All he'd had to do was have some fun.  
What fun.  
He leaned against Nerys. Not his whole weight, but enough to give comfort. "I dreamed about this," he murmured.  
"Mm-hm," Nerys finally struggled clear and entered the temple. Stopped by the reflective pool.  
He turned to face her. Gently drew her close, delicately maneuvered his arms around her waist. Bought his face closer to hers. "Nerys..."  
Quick fingers stopped his lips touching hers. He kissed them instead. Even her hands were paradise.  
"Not so fast," she smiled. "I have a surprise, first."  
"A nice surprise?"  
"I'm worried you might not like it," she said. "I have to do this right."  
He blinked at her. Confused. "It's the face, isn't it? I know I'm ugly, but am I very ugly?"  
"It's not you, it's me," she said, gently moving the two of them around.  
"Is this dancing? I'd love to do dancing with you. I'd love to try sex. But I'm way too ugly. Far too different. But I love you so much." All his most poisonous secrets, pouring out of him without an ounce of pain. He should be drunk more often. It made telling her so easy.  
"I need you to stand. Right. Here." She disengaged his hands. "Let go?"  
"Okay."  
"Now close your eyes."  
Sudden distress. "You're not going to run away, are you? I'd die if you ran away 'cause I said I loved you."  
"I'm not running away," she soothed.  
He opened his arms for her. "Nerys..."  
Impact. Her hands. Pushing him backwards over the low railing of-- oh no.  
The flashback speared through him at the same instant he hit the water. Once again, he felt the corpse-like chemical copy of his liquid state close over him. He screamed. Struggled. Hurled himself out and into a world of fury. Horrors of his past had chased away all charitable feeling. So *angry*... he wanted to burn with it.  
"Sober, yet?" she said.  
He slapped her. Hard. Only his convoluted feelings for her stopped it being a punch. "Never do that again!"  
"You were drunk!"  
"I wanted to be!"  
"Because I touched Sisko? He's the flakking Emissary!"  
"No! Because you never touched me."  
"I touched you plenty of times!"  
"Only when it was expedient for you. Never because you wanted to!"  
"That's not true."  
"Then list all the times you actually *wanted* to hold me."  
Someone cleared their throat. Vedek Raal. "We're going to have a service in a few minutes? If you could... take this elsewhere?"  
"Oh yes," said Odo, oozing sarcasm. "We could take it to the Promenade. Nerys could sell tickets so everyone can gawp at her pet freak."  
"I'd never *do* that..."  
"Why not? You've hurt me every other way you can think of."  
"Because I don't think of you like that, you stupid bucket of goo!"  
"Ahem?" said Vedek Raal.  
"Then how do you think of me? I really need to know."  
"You're my *friend*!"  
"You slept with *plenty* of your friends! What makes me so different?"  
"That was the occupation! We grabbed whatever comfort was close!"  
"Excuse me?" said Vedek Raal.  
"I was closer!"  
"I remember!"  
"You passed me by to get comfort with someone else!"  
"You never wanted it!"  
"You never asked!"  
A phaser beam split the air between them. Both turned to see an otherwise butter-cool Vedek Raal red in the face from frustration, anger, and a dash of rage.  
"Prophets damn it, take this lover's tiff the hell out of my temple!" Raal took aim. "Or I shoot the most annoying one."  
They both tried to protect each other, even as they chorused, "We're not lovers!"  
"That's the problem," added Odo.  
"I'm going to count to five," said Vedek Raal.  
They were out before she got to three.

They needed time to sort this out. Time without interruptions. That automatically ruled out the security office, where they hashed out most of their bickering, and her office, where they shouted through the rest.  
Which left her quarters, which were a mess.  
She deliberately left off punching in her command code, leaving the turbolift programming to assume they were civilians and slow the ride.  
"What do you mean, that's the problem? What problem?"  
"You honestly believe we don't have a problem?"  
"I know we have a problem, now! Why should you care who I choose to touch?"  
"It's who you never choose to touch that bothers me!"  
"Odo... You never gave any sign..."  
"I gave a thousand signs. Every day, I tried a different sign. A different way to tell you. I tried everything I could think of."  
"Except asking..."  
"Nobody ever *asked*... nobody needed to. It was just... a touch..." he brushed her cheek, so carefully. "One hand seeking another. Whispers in the dark."  
"Know what we were whispering to each other?"  
"I never heard. I tried to think of what it was."  
She took him close, put her mouth near his ear, and whispered the crudest and briefest of all possible propositions.  
Odo backed instantly away. "No! I'd never say that."  
"That's why you missed out. You never asked."  
"I'd never ask like *that*... I respect you too much."  
"Then you can be glad we don't do it that way, any more."  
"Then why them and not me? Why can't the two of us ever go out for dinner?"  
"You don't eat!"  
"So?"  
"Dinner's a bit pointless when there's only one person eating."  
"You don't eat much on your 'dates'..."  
"I thought we weren't bringing that up again."  
"All right," Odo folded his arms. "We could go watch some performance... Or go dancing."  
"You can't dance, Odo."  
"Are you saying you can't teach me?" he challenged.  
"I never said that. I can teach you anything you want to learn."  
"Then I want to learn how to dance."  
"Why? Say we've gone dancing. What then? Suppose you want to kiss me..."  
"Why? Is that so repelling to you?"  
"No!"  
"Then why don't you kiss me right now?"  
Blushing, furious and confused, she reflected his question back at him. "Why don't *you*?"  
Quicker than thought, his hands seized her face. His lips met hers with every ounce of passion in his liquid body. She could feel the raw need in him like a fire. Burning so hot, it could melt the very station around them.  
_Holy Prophets, I have been a magnificent, spectacular, and phenomenally blind idiot,_ she thought as she wrapped her arms around him and kissed him just as hard back.  
Unheeded by either of them, the turbolift reached its destination, waited with open doors for the requisite time, then went back to its default programming and position.

"Firefights on the Promenade, brawls on the Promenade, three times the spectacle in as many hours," ranted Sisko. "Is every day with them like this?"  
"It's been a Cardassian afternoon," said a Bajoran techie as she called the turbolift. "Things get crazy when the spoonheads are around."  
"So I see," said Sisko.  
Rising on the turbolift, locked in a hungry embrace, Kira and Odo were joined at the mouth. This was a surprise to everyone present except Sisko, who'd seen all the signs, and Dax, who knew more of them and had predicted just such an occurrence.  
They came up for air, eyes only for each other's.  
"You're right," said Kira. "Who needs dancing?" and lunged at Odo again.  
The techie punched a few codes into the turbolift interface and whispered, "Hssst. This time, get off when the doors open."  
"Mm-hm," mumbled Kira.

Odo spared some senses for the outside world, and was slightly grateful that Nerys came up for air, just as the doors opened to the corridor near her quarters. She was more beautiful flushed and excited than she was every day.  
They kept a tight grip on each other and managed to make it to her door.  
"My place is a mess," she said.  
"We'll tidy up, later." Why she was so concerned about mess eluded him. He was secretly panicking about keeping a seasoned and experienced woman happy when he hadn't kissed anyone before today. In all cultures, the first sexual encounter was something of a right of passage. Covertly, as it often was on ancient Earth, or openly, as it still was on Betazed. Bajor had lost it's old traditions in the occupation, and were still deciding what their new traditions would be. Most went with the Age of Discretion, and the birthday Bajoran's first act of discretion was who their first joining was with.  
He hadn't had a choice, nor a celebration. He didn't even have a birthday.  
They made it to her quarters. All would be well. He had to believe that. The Prophets wouldn't answer his life's prayer, only to yank away the possibility at the last moment. All he had to do was remember everything he'd observed.  
The kissing was good. He could feel the subtle vibrations of her body through her uniform as he ran his hands over her torso. Kira fumbled for the fastenings of his uniform coat. He quickly shape shifted them into existence for her, and found similar fastenings on her clothing.  
It was difficult to shapeshift according to her unspoken wants and fight to gain access to her clothes. Her fingers caught in the liquid interface between his illusion of humanoid skin and the coat she was tearing off.  
He gasped, a deep burble of his native state escaped his throat. His desire for her ramped up by a factor of a thousand. The touch of her in his native flesh made him crave the touch of her skin all the more.  
She looked. Saw what he'd been doing. "Don't pretend for me," she whispered. "What do you want?"  
"I want... to take each of your clothes off... and pour myself all over your skin. Explore every last lilapate of your marvelous skin. And find out how to make you the happiest woman on Bajor."  
She smiled. "Let's start with getting these clothes off," she said, kicking her boots off.  
He unfastened her pants and she wriggled out of her undershirt, and he couldn't resist the temptation of so much skin, any longer. His hands melted as they smoothed over her waist. He opened his senses to her. Every vibration, every pore and follicle a symphony of joy to him. Her voice, transmitted through her body, encouraged him.  
"Bed, Odo," she said. "Let's get to the bed."  
Wise choice. Lovemaking standing up required levels of control he simply didn't possess, right now. They stumbled all the way there. Like so many others he'd seen as lovers. Too focussed on pleasuring each other to look around them.  
Only now did he understand the needs involved.  
Nerys dug her nails into him as they fell into her bed. She needed to cling to a body while she... grappled. He needed to liquefy over every part of her surface. Compromise. Form part of himself where she expected a partner and let the rest of himself sate his desires.  
Judging by her responses, it was going well. He removed the last of her underwear, pressing himself against all of her. Exploring the moist folds.  
He'd never liked the liquid immersion experiments. The first one, the worst one, made all the ones that followed it just as bad. He'd been reluctant to enter liquid environments ever since.  
"Yes!" Nerys reached around to where his buttocks should be and tried to push him in.  
She wanted him in there.  
A cautious, exploratory tendril.  
Not dead liquid. Alive and tantalizing. He thrust himself inside, expanding to the dimensions typical of a Bajoran male.  
Nerys grunted in satisfaction. Writhed within him.  
He rippled against her, inside and out. Waves and vortices that enhanced his sensations. Her voice thrilled him as she cried out.  
Closer. Deeper. Faster. He encouraged her inside him, inside the body he made for her to hold. Towards his Core.  
She took the hint, egging him on by curling and uncurling her fingers to tease him. All the time, edging closer as their peak neared. He could no longer restrain his natural noises, though thankfully his volume was lower than Nerys'. He didn't want to harm her in any way.  
His senses overloaded in a flash of light where everything was Nerys. Her voice, the feel of her secretions in his mass, the part of her flexing in his Aside, her touch, the very vibrations of her life... All of it was his heaven.  
Nerys was still crying out, still spasming in joy. Just as he flexed and rippled in the aftershocks. She withdrew from his Core. Slowly.  
"Prophets," she gasped.  
Odo managed most of his usual form, without clothing, and snuggled next to her. "I agree," he sighed. "Worth keeping me around?"  
"Can't wait to teach you how to dance," she gasped. "I need to get fitter..."  
He purred, lazily whorling his liquid self over her skin. She was delicious. Inebriating. He was certain, now, that he could never get enough of her.  
"I want to stay with you," he confessed. "Do all the things that couples do together. I want to give you everything I have... Everything I am. Until such time as the Prophets will us to be apart."  
"You've only had sex once and you want to get married?" Nerys grinned. "We should try it out for a while. See if we can stand it."  
"Now who's being the wimp?" he teased. "I've only ever wanted you. But I can wait until you're certain."

**Author's Note:**

> Once again, I hit a brick wall. I don't like retelling episodes that already happened, and that's pretty much where this is left to go. Putting twists on the episodes might be fun, but... To make them recognizable, they have to be at least similar, and that gets boring for me.
> 
> Sorry.


End file.
